


Five Things John Loves About Sherlock And One Thing He Most Certainly Does Not

by rightonmybins



Series: The Real Househusbands of Baker Street [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Besotted John Watson, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Life at 221B Baker Street, Fluff and Humor, I love you even if you are a prat, M/M, Romantic Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-12 06:09:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13541361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rightonmybins/pseuds/rightonmybins
Summary: Stroppy cranky John Watson has a surprisingly soft side when it comes to Sherlock. Which of course doesn't preclude calling him a wanker on occasion.A whole boatload of Valentine’s Day fluff and even more fluff and oh did I say fluff.





	Five Things John Loves About Sherlock And One Thing He Most Certainly Does Not

I.  
“Sherlock, have I ever told you that you have the most beautiful eyes?”  
“By my count you have mentioned my eyes 1,458 times thus far, not including the times you’ve insisted on discussing my sectoral heterochromia, my periorbital hyperpigmentation or my incipient blepharoptosis.”  
“I’m trying to pay you a bloody compliment, you prat.”  
“I fail to see how you can even focus when your forehead is pressed so closely against mine that our eyelashes are tangled.”  
“But it’s my favourite way to look at you.” 

 

II.  
“Sherlock, not another one.”  
“Oh, please indulge me, John. Sometimes this is the only genuine fun I get out of life.”  
“You know, I quite adore the way you leave me love notes in my pockets, and some of them are delightfully filthy, but…in code? REALLY, Sherlock?”  
“Your code-breaking skills could use some work - what more pleasant way than this?”  
“My code-breaking skills are just fine, thank you.”  
“U.M.Q.R.A.”  
“Shut it, Sherlock.”

 

III.  
“You want me to read you a bedtime story.”  
“What’s wrong with that?”  
“John, every time I read to you, you fall asleep. I see no point in beginning a story, the end of which you never hear because meanwhile you’ve lapsed into unconsciousness and will more than likely have begun to snore.”  
“I won’t snore – I’ll stay awake.”  
“You say that each time, and yet can never seem to make it beyond the end of the first page. I do not read aloud for my own pleasure, you know.”  
“Please, Sherlock. Your voice is so…relaxing.”  
“Using me as a soporific, how tedious. I can think of much better ways to help you get to sleep.”  
“We did that already. Now I just want a story.”  
“Here’s an idea – audiobooks.”  
“Sherlock, what if I told you that your voice is the very last thing I want to hear before I die. The last thread of consciousness I will hold onto before …”  
“What are you saying now, you think you’re going to die in your sleep?!”  
“No, well not just yet, I hope. I simply love listening to your voice. It’s the most glorious sound in the world. It’s so comforting, so deep and dark and rich. Like a melted chocolate bar. The kind in the black wrapper.”  
“First I was a sleeping pill, now I’m a chocolate bar, next I’ll be a….”  
“So please never stop talking to me. Or reading to me. Or even arguing with me.”  
“Oh, very well, John, you can stop flattering me now. Ready? ‘In the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the University of London…’ “

 

IV.  
“Mm, you smell nice.”  
“I simply smell like myself, John, but if you find that pleasant then thank you.”  
“It’s a combination of oakmoss, gunpowder, clove and petrol, with perhaps a hint of hyacinth.”  
“I assure you I do not smell like a hyacinth.”  
“A bluebell then. Something that grows in the woods.”  
“John, I have no idea what you think you can smell, since I dislike cologne and all of my personal hygiene products are unscented.”  
“There’s a definite scent – I can even smell it on your clothes.”  
“Perhaps that explains why you slept with my laundry while I was away in Cardiff last night.”  
“I did no such thing.”  
“I just found my shirt in the bed.”  
“Sorting the dirty clothes - that shirt happened to get caught up in the sheets, I didn't notice.”  
“Yes, that sounds entirely plausible.”  
“…All right, so what if I did. I slept with your shirt because I missed you.”  
“How sentimental you are, John.”  
“Oh, and Sherlock? My blue jumper’s gone missing. Have you – “  
“Suitcase.”

 

V.  
I know he stares at me, deduces me, just as he does everyone. He can’t help it.  
Look at him watching me in the mirror. He’s standing there waiting, idly pretending to look out the window – but I see what he’s doing. Watching my hands, watching me faff about with my tie, analysing me. He doesn’t know it but I chose this tie because he said he liked the color. I listen when he throws away those insignificant little remarks, they are as close as he gets to actual compliments. But I don’t mind. I deduce him too.  
I catch him looking into my eyes again, and he quickly looks away - adjusts his scarf, fidgets the buttons on his coat. It’s a game we play.  
Look at him. The relaxed posture but the wary eyes of a feral cat. That superior brain churning behind the tranquil façade. I will never tire of being observed by him.  
I will never tire of letting him observe me.  
“Ready, John?”  
Ready, Sherlock. 

 

VI.  
“Is that my toothbrush?!”  
“Possibly.”  
“Sherlock, I really do not want you using my toothbrush, you have your own.”  
“I couldn’t find it.”  
“It’s in the toothbrush holder.”  
“I couldn’t reach it.”  
“Seriously, using another person’s toothbrush is unhygienic.”  
“John, we kiss one another all the time and I don’t regard that as unhygienic. And considering some of the other …”  
“STOP. I mean it. Just stop it this minute. Now go put that back, I’ll sterilize it later. Better yet, just keep it and I’ll buy myself a new one.”  
“John, I will buy you a new toothbrush for every day of the year as long as you promise to share my home, my bed, and my bathroom for the rest of our lives.”  
“Is this a proposal?”  
“It’s consumer advocacy. Now kiss me. I’m minty-fresh.”  
“I have to brush my teeth first.”

**Author's Note:**

> John's bedtime story is "A Study in Scarlet" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.


End file.
